Idiosyncratic
by Rody DiBiOrton
Summary: “You do realize that you just lost Cody in a bet to one of the WWE's most seductive--not to mention horny--wrestlers? I wouldn't be surprised if he's naked before the night's over.” Jeff has Cody. Randy and Ted will not stand for this. SLASH
1. Mine For The Taking

disclaimer: I don't own anyone.

warning: OMGWTFBBQ SLASH. possessive!Randy and devious!Jeff. which you will soon find, do _not_ mix well together.

I had to start this! Cody getting kidnapped and Raw trying to get him back. Ah, I couldn't help myself.

Anyway, you can read it now. I'll shut-up.

* * *

Randy twisted in his sheets, feeling the tug of the silken cloth against his bare legs as he did so. He grunted, once he felt something hard being thrown across his chest, and the warmth of skin on skin ignite instantly, as the aforementioned something cuddled up to his side.

He was utterly exhausted from the night before. Wrestling really beat the energy out of you, and he felt like doing nothing more than sleeping away his Tuesday in bed with whatever the hell the smooth, warm thing was that was currently squished up against him.

Wait.

Smooth, warm and moving... Sounded a lot like a human being if Randy wasn't mistaken. Randy furrowed his eyebrows, eyes still closed, as he pondered if he had gone to sleep with anyone the night before...

Immediately, Randy's eyes shot open and he jerked his head towards the unidentified sleeping object. There, wound around his naked chest, was a clothing-less Cody, his cheek nuzzled against his exposed collar bone, and his hot breath washing over his left pec.

Randy cocked a curious eyebrow, as he didn't recall inviting the young boy into his _hotel_ _room_, let alone his _bed._ "Uh... Cody?" Randy started, raising the hand that wasn't encompassing Cody's small form in order to shake him.

Cody irritatedly threw his offending hand off with a roll of his shoulder, and groaned grumpily, before snuggling closer to Randy's muscular side. Randy frowned, as something in the bottom of his stomach coiled warmly and a sensation of heat washed over his torso, from shoulder blades to chest.

What the heck was that? Randy thought, alarmed by the sudden melting of his insides as Cody rubbed his naked body—save for a pair of tight fitting boxers—against his bare skin.

"Cody... Wake up..." His voice was unwillingly quiet, and his throat was unusually parched as he once again made a sad attempt to awaken Cody, strangely his body just wouldn't listen to him, and his brain was subconsciously stopping his hand from really putting any force into his light pushes.

He couldn't stop the thought that shot into his mind that, perhaps, he didn't _want_ Cody to leave his side, that he quite _enjoyed_ the feeling of Cody curling up against him like a newborn kitten. Randy abruptly shook his head back and forth, careful not to awaken the young boy, as he hurriedly wiped the preposterous thoughts from his head.

His movements caused the sleeping Cody to grumble quietly, an adorable pout forming across his face as he shifted to throw his bare leg over Randy's lower stomach, the muscles flexing and causing Randy to shift uncomfortably, as that strange coiling warmth resurfaced itself once more.

And suddenly the offending thoughts began to seep through his resolve once again, or at least they _must_ have been, because those pouting lips were starting to look_ very_ enticing—Dammit! Randy inwardly cursed his wandering mind, as he tensed his abs that lay underneath Cody's leg, in order to distract himself from the positively _inviting_ boy—sleeping absolutely defenseless against his chest.

He decided—before he lost control and took Cody right there—that he should try to awaken the boy once more. "Cody... Er, Coddles. _Wake up_. You're making me into a horny bastard... you little brat..." Randy muttered, his voice throaty and guttural, as he whispered into Cody's hair.

Cody reacted to his words in the most negative way possible, as he shifted his face to bury it in the crook of Randy's neck, his lips grazing across the sensitive skin that resided there.

That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Randy inhaled an enormous amount of air rather sharply, as he felt his face turn dark red and his skin crawl with pleasure. Almost instantly he hollered, "Ted! Get your ass in here!" The order didn't even faze Cody, who merely breathed his hot breath across Randy's neck, said man gulping, as sweat formed across his brow, the instant he realized his pants were growing tighter by the second.

Their rooms—Randy's and Ted/Cody's—were joined by one solitary door, a door that was usually shut and locked. Apparently it had not been, as it was standing wide open and Randy had quite a clear view of Ted's bed. Ted wasn't even budging.

"TED! I'M _MOLESTING_ CODY!"

_That _would get the lout moving, Randy was positive.

* * *

The light shimmied through the window curtains as Ted tossed onto his side, jerking the comforter over his head and groaning with agitation. He hadn't been able to sleep properly ever since—about—four hours ago, and had been stuck in that horrible spot between sleep and consciousness, where you aren't fully aware of your surroundings, but your energy reserves aren't being restored any.

Being half-awake, Ted couldn't possibly pinpoint the reason behind his sudden inability to doze, but he knew he had this nagging sensation that he was missing something...

With another groan, Ted buried his face in the pillow he had rolled onto, and—inhaling—he abruptly realized it was Cody's soft, cushion of a pillow and with a hazy grin he intoxicatedly nuzzled his nose into the feathery plush, drunk off of the scent he suddenly realized he'd been missing the past few hours.

Unfortunately, he was too drowsy to wonder where his tag-team/sleeping partner had gone in the middle of the night, and simply settled for Cody's comfy, Cody-smelling pillow, cuddling it to his chest as a not-as-good replacement for his best friend who had mysteriously disappeared.

"Ted! Get your ass in here!"

Ted's brows furrowed and he paused in his coddling to scowl. Randy's voice was just as irritating in half-consciousness as it was when he was fully awake, and Ted tugged the blanket further over his head in order to block out the mind-grating noise and continue on with his Cody-incensed high.

It was comfortably silent for a few moments before Randy's voice shot through his senses like a bullet hot out of a shot gun.

"TED! I'M _MOLESTING_ CODY!"

It must have been in record time, because Ted was in Randy's room faster than said man had time to blink. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and the muscles that lined his arms were tensed as he glared at Randy with vice-like ferocity.

At the shout, though, Cody was rudely awakened from his cozy slumber, and he lifted his head from its previous place against Randy's neck, rubbing his eyes drowsily.

"Huh? ...Why am I in Randy's bed? Ted? What's going on... Are we having some sort of meeting or something?" Cody mumbled questioningly, scratching his head and gradually tugging his leg off of Randy, as he rose to a sitting position beside said wrestler.

At the sight of the hazy-eyed Cody, Ted's anger instantly simmered, and he scurried onto the bed in order to grab Cody around the waist and tug him away from Randy.

The sudden loss of warmth, left Randy missing the soft feel of Cody against his bare skin, and his ghost-like lips across his neck. And that simple fact, left him worried for his sanity as he couldn't help but eye Cody with a needy expression, before returning his gaze to the still slightly fuming Ted, who, while being pleased with having Cody against him once more, was glaring at Randy for having taken him away in the first place.

"Teddy? Um, what's going on...?" Cody wondered, still slightly asleep, as he yawned, his tongue curling much like a lion as he did so. Ted grinned, pulling Cody to his bare chest and threading his fingers through his raven colored hair.

"Good morning, Coddles," He murmured, placing a complacent kiss against the younger boy's temple, as he did so.

Cody smiled and leaned into his tag-team partner's embrace, still not quite catching onto to what exactly had transpired during his unconsciousness, but welcoming the good morning anyway.

"'Morning Teddy, Randy... So, why are we in Randy's bed, exactly...?" Cody questioned, finding himself at loss as to how he had awoken in his mentor's bed, and slightly irritated with the fact that no one was answering him.

"Uh, yeah, apparently you ditched Ted last night, and crawled into bed with me," Randy offered with an attempt at a shrug, the muscles in his shoulders rolling and tensing as he did so. But Ted could sense the ghost of a triumphant tone in his voice, and his smile was something reminiscent of a smirk in the DiBiase's direction.

"Oh... Sorry, Teddy. Guess I was sleep-walking or something," Cody apologized, using Ted as leverage to push himself up into a full sitting position, and stretching his tan arms into the air with another yawn. Ted couldn't help but notice how adorable the younger boy looked—in contrast to the many muscles that flexed with his movement, and would have usually given him a sexy persona.

"S'okay. You don't gotta apologize, it's not like it was your fault or anything," Ted muttered, shifting to rub his own sleep from his blue eyes as he smiled at Cody reassuringly.

Cody nodded subtly, before scratching his head once more, and making to slide off the plush covers, missing Randy by a hair's width.

"Okay then, I'm gonna take a shower," Cody informed, grabbing a towel that was previously slung over one of the dressers and making his way to the open bathroom. Ted and Randy watched as his small form disappeared behind the door, before turning to face each other, a prominent glare still obvious on Ted's face.

"You didn't do anything to Cody, while he was sleeping in bed with you, did you? 'Cause you guys were awfully close to each other," The DiBiase queried through narrowed eyes, as he made to get off of Randy's large bed. Randy leaned back against the headboard, sliding his hands behind his head in a relaxed position.

"No, I didn't do anything to Cody. He's just a really cuddly sleeper, I guess. I woke up with him on me like that," He explained half-heartedly, most of his mind still stuck in Cody-Land where he was quite content to stay, if Ted would stop harassing him.

Ted looked unconvinced, hand moving to ruffle his dirty blonde hair. "I guess... He _does_ usually get real close to me when we sleep together. So..."

His cheeks grew red, as he recalled the moments when he'd awoken in the middle of the night, his face so close to Cody's he could taste the minty flavor of his Crest toothpaste on his lips. And their bodies so near each other Ted could feel every individual muscle on his partner's torso. He gulped, throat growing dry, as he hurriedly shook his head back and forth.

"You know," Randy started, gray eyes glazed over with a sort of fantasy induced haze. "I think I could do with a little company every once in a while, maybe you could share Cody sometimes, eh—"

"No." Ted's reply was abrupt, arms crossing as he narrowed his dark blue orbs. "Cody will _not_ sleep with you. He's _my_ partner." Randy looked taken aback by his fellow Legacy cohort's sudden animosity, and he sat up fully to shoot the DiBiase a curious expression.

"_Oh_. I wasn't aware Teddy was such a possessive tag-team partner," He stated, sarcasm laced through his voice, as he massaged the back of his neck, before stretching his arms out. Ted "humph"ed.

"I'm _not_ possessive. I just... It's harder for me to sleep, when I don't have someone next to me, okay?" He murmured, averting his eyes to stare at the patterned hotel room carpet, not at all pleased with having to admit this fact to his stablemate. But before Randy could make any sort of comment, another voice caused him to jump.

"Aw! Teddy, I never knew you _needed_ me so much!" Cody cooed, launching himself on Ted from behind, arms wrapping around his neck and head peeking over his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

"Ugh! _Cody!_ You're all _wet_ and _cold!_" Ted cringed, arching his back in a futile attempt to get away from Cody's chillingly damp bare skin.

"I _know!_ Isn't it _great?_" He smiled, shaking his head for good measure, cool water showering Ted's shirtless form as he did so, and causing the man to whimper.

"Okay! Okay! I _give_, I _give!_" He shouted, gripping Cody's hands and throwing them off him, shivering as he inched away. Cody folded his arms across his chest, smirking at Ted in all his nearly naked glory, a white-towel being the only cloth keeping him decent. Randy eyed his lean form.

"Looking good, Sparky," He commented offhandedly as he shifted to his feet, bending his spine back with a light groan, the vertebrae twisting and popping as he did so. Cody pouted at him.

"I _always_ look good, not just in a towel, but _constantly_," He corrected, hands to his waist. Ted snorted.

"_Sure_. Is that what ol' Daddy told you, baby-boy?" He crooned, puckering his lips, before his face broke out in a wicked, taunting grin. Cody narrowed his powdery blue orbs.

"Shut-up, you've got not room to talk, Teddy _Jr._" Cody scoffed, turning on his heel to head over to his duffel in the other room—in order to find some clothes, so that he wasn't traipsing around in nothing but a towel.

Before Ted could retort to Cody's sneer, there was a knocking on the door, and Randy scratched behind his ear, indicating for the DiBiase to answer it. Ted rolled his azure tinted eyes, sighing as he headed over to _Randy's_ hotel room door, and tugged it open.

Shawn Michaels stood there with water slicked hair and nothing but a pair of jeans on. Hunter stood behind him, hair—also—soaked, but he'd apparently had time to pull on a t-shirt. Shawn smiled. "Uh, hey, kid. Any of you guys have a hairdryer, per chance?"

"Ours kind of broke," Hunter added.

"Yeah, because _somebody_ crushed it."

Hunter growled. "_You're_ the one who left it lying around!"

"_You _were the one who _fell_ off the bed!"

"Because _you_ _pushed_ me!"

"_Whatever!_ You started it! You kept _hitting_ me in the face!"

"I wasn't _hitting _you, I was _accidentally snuggling_ you, okay?"

"_Yeah_, right—"

"GUYS," Ted cut in, shooting the two older men an irate glare from where he leaned against the door frame. "Now. Without any other comments from the peanut gallery. _What_ do you want?" Shawn sighed exasperatedly.

"We were wondering if you had a hairdryer, because ours... died." Ted glanced from Shawn to Hunter, a dirty blonde eyebrow raised.

"Uh... You _do_ understand that Randy doesn't have _any_ hair, and Cody and I don't _need_ a hairdryer, right? Why the heck would we own one?" He questioned blankly, watching the two expectantly. Shawn blinked.

"..._Oh._"

Hunter smacked his back. "_Smooth..._ idiot." The Heartbreak Kid scowled at the bigger man over his shoulder, muttering something that Ted couldn't quite catch, before turning back to face him with a mock, teeth-showing grin.

"_Well... _We're gonna _go_ now..."

And with that the two sulked away.

Ted scratched his head, still not completely awake, and still slightly confused. "Uh... _Okay_." Randy's voice broke him out of his slight relapse in thought.

"Who was it, Ted?" He inquired, ligaments and tendons finally stretched out comfortably, as he ran his thumb along the rim of his boxer shorts, the tight band having left a red indented line around his lower waist.

"Hunter and Shawn. They wanted to know if you had a... _hairdryer?_" He ended in a questioning tone, still wondering why the hell the two DX cronies would possibly think _Randy—_hairless boy wonder—would ever have such a thing.

"Hairdryer? The heck?" Cody came in through the doorway connecting their room, in the midst of tugging on a t-shirt that Ted found _quite_ familiar.

"Hey, is that my shirt?" He asked suspiciously, eying the dark red shirt adorning the younger man's torso. Cody grinned sheepishly.

"Uh, _yeah_. I couldn't find any clean ones, so I thought I'd steal one of my _best friends'_..."

Randy cocked an eyebrow at the shirt, quite loose on Cody's smaller shoulders, as he fished around his own duffel for a pair of jeans. "You don't think it's a bit big on you, Cody?"

Cody glanced down himself, before shrugging. "Well, your shirts wouldn't be any better," He commented absently, blue eyes watching Randy curiously—unsure if that was what the man was implying.

"Oh, I don't know... I do have a tight RKO shirt that might fit." Randy tossed the shirt over his shoulder to Cody, who caught it and held it up to himself, in order see if the older man was right.

"Does it look like it'd fit, Teddy?" He asked, turning to face his tag-team partner. Ted huffed, crossing his arms.

"I don't think mine's that much bigger on you. I don't see why you have to change," He muttered, glaring at the back of Randy's head. Said man was in the process of tugging a pair of faded jeans up his legs and he pretended not to sense the heated stare boring into his skull.

"Just put it on Cody," He ordered, using the low, commanding, 'no-nonsense' voice he usually set aside for the camera. Cody gulped and hurriedly yanked off Ted's t-shirt, and pulled on Randy's, tossing the unused shirt back in his room.

Randy—buttoning his pants—glanced the younger man up and down with an appreciative nod, distractedly noting the way the tighter of his shirts showed off Cody's defined chest, finding himself impossibly turned on at the sight of the boy in _his_ t-shirt.

His eyes widened once he realized he was staring, and he inwardly berated himself. Because Randy Orton should_ never_ get all hot and bothered when no one was naked. And Cody wasn't naked.

_Yet_.

He growled lowly at the intruding thought, and shook his head, muscles flexing in irritation, but before Cody could question his sudden tense posture, the door was thrown open and Evan came stumbling in, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so. Everyone was so surprised by his sudden appearance, they didn't question how he opened the door in the first place—seeing as how it automatically locked when it closed.

"Smackdown's doing it again!"

Randy's eyes narrowed. Cody blanched.

"Are you _serious?_ Jeez, you'd think they'd get tired of it. When will they learn that Raw's a better show, and just get over it?" He grumbled, crossing his arms in exasperation. Evan went on.

"Yeah, except this time _Jeff_ wants to face off against _Randy!_" He exclaimed, still slightly winded from his mad dash there. Randy placed his hands on his waist with a more than smug smirk.

"And what makes him think I'd agree to that?"

"He said if you beat him at whatever the challenge is than Smackdown will stop bothering Raw. For good," Evan cited, brown eyes watching his phone screen carefully, as he scrolled through the text he'd received from John Cena, who'd gotten it from Hunter, who'd gotten it from Jericho.

Randy raised his eyebrows at the highflier's words. Now _that_ sounded appealing. It would be nice not to have Smackdown breathing down their necks every time they crossed paths.

Ever since Bragging Rights, Smackdown had taken the insults of their show from Raw a bit _too_ literally, and basically declared war on the entire Raw team. Their ire eventually spread to anyone associated with the show, which Randy supposed included himself as well.

Now for the past three months, the wrestlers from Smackdown have taken it upon themselves to declare a completely useless challenge on whomever they hated the most at the moment.

The strange thing was, Jeff usually _never_ faced off in one of these 'challenges' before—he being the leader-figure of Smackdown's roster—since 'Taker refused to get involved.

"What do'ya say, Randy?" Ted asked, as Evan prepared to send the Orton's reply back to John so that it could circulate itself over to Jeff.

Randy shrugged. "Sure, whatever. I don't really care as long as it'll get those bastards away from me and _my_ boys."

* * *

The atmosphere was tense.

Ted probably would have broke under the pressure falling down on the room, but Cody was sleeping in his lap, so he couldn't move—and John was using him as support as he leaned over him to see the two men better.

Jeff and Randy sat on the carpet before the hotel room television, a handy Playstation 3© plugged in, and the familiar starting screen of Smackdown Vs. Raw 2009 shining on the screen.

Randy was eying Jeff, fingers clenched tightly around the first player controller. "State your terms."

His voice was grave. But that made sense, seeing as how this was a very serious issue. _This_ moment would decide whether Raw had to deal with those Smackdown bastards for the rest of their godforsaken _careers_. OR if they would forever live their remaining lives in peace and harmony.

Or well as harmonic and peaceful as life on the road with twenty-odd testosterone pumped angry males _could_ be.

Jeff smirked, with a sinister chuckle. "Oh yeah. The _terms_," He rubbed his hands together. "_I_ came up with this one. You guys're gonna _love_ this..." He began with deliberate gradualness, stringing his Raw rivals along, to the amusement of his fellow Smackdown compatriot, CM Punk.

Randy grit his teeth, and Hunter—lounging complacently on the bed beside Shawn—rolled his eyes. "Just get on with it, twerp. We don't have all night."

Punk scoffed at the older man's words. "You won't be so haughty when you hear _these_ terms. Seriously, Jeff's a pretty sick ass." Jeff lightly punched Punk's arm, a smile on his face.

"You're just jealous, because it was all _my_ idea."

Ted clenched his fists, being sure not to disturb the slumbering Cody as he did so. He was starting to seriously get sick and tired of the cocky wrestlers over at Smackdown and he—along with the rest of the Raw roster—was willing to do whatever it took to get the proverbial monkey of their backs.

"Just state the damn terms already," Randy ordered, steely-eyed glare directed back to Jeff, animosity and irritation radiating off of him in waves. The Hardy's smirk seemed to only grow with every second that passed and he shrugged.

"Alright, I've been holding you off long enough." He started leisurely, flicking a piece of lint off his jeans. "_If_ you win—and that's a _big if_—Smackdown and all it's branches will stop annoying you—"

"Thank _God!_" Shawn muttered. And there was a murmur of agreement among the Raw wrestlers. Jeff's pleasant attitude seemed to only elevate with this comment, as he glanced around the room, with his eyebrows raised in appreciation.

"_But._ _But_ if _we_ win. If _we_ win we get a prize. _My_ prize... And the prize _is_—"

Ted felt like his spine was about to give out, as John leaned even farther forward in an attempt to hear better. Even nonchalant Hunter was edging closer curiously.

"_Well?_" Randy prompted, feeling as if a blood vessel were about to burst somewhere near his temple, as he clutched the controller anxiously. Jeff's smirk broke out into a full on grin, once he noticed how much tension he was creating.

He exhaled loudly, before shooting a green-eyed glance over at the sleeping face of a certain "_prize"._

"If _I_ win, _I _get your little Cody over there."

* * *

"C'MON RANDY!"

"YOU CAN'T LOSE!"

"IF YOU LOSE, THEY FUCKING GET _CODY!_"

"SO YOU BETTER NOT FUCKING LOSE!"

"YOU'RE _DOIN'_ IT WRONG! HIT R2, _R2!_"

"WHO THE _HELL_ TAUGHT YOU HOW TO PLAY?"

"THE JOYSTICK MAKES YOU _MOVE, _IDIOT!"

"YOU FUCKING SUCK, ORTON! DO YOU _WANT_ TO LOSE CODY?"

Randy growled, as he violently mashed down on the R2 trigger.

"SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP AND LET ME CONCENTRATE, YOU BUNCH OF DEMANDING _ASSHOLES!_"

Just as the words finished flying from Randy's mouth, Jeff jumped to his feet the familiar bell-ringing in the background. "_Ding-ding-ding!"_

"I WON! I FUCKING _WON_, BITCHES! IN YOU RAW FUCKERS' _FACES!_"

Cody jolted into consciousness so fast the back of his head collided with the plaster of the wall behind him, and he collapsed forward—a string of curses muttered under his breath as he rubbed the newly made bump.

What the heck? He could've _sworn_ he'd gone to sleep by Ted...

Glancing down, Cody noticed a plush pillow in placement of his Legacy partner's comfortable leg and frowned. Ted must've ditched him. The thought made him wanna punch his best friend, but he refrained from any violent notions, and instead scanned the room for the aforementioned man.

It was at that moment, he realized he was being stared at.

No, like, _really_ stared at.

Randy, John, Ted, Shawn, Hunter and Evan were staring in horror, wide eyes and open mouths as if they couldn't believe the terrible atrocity that had just been committed. Not that Cody quite understood what that was, but he was only_ slightly _unnerved. He suspected someone had stolen Randy's baby oil again or something.

Though, with one glance past his familiar companions, he found something that _really_ unnerved him.

Jeff—standing to his feet with his arms crossed, controller hanging by the chord, he'd languidly thrown around his neck—was eying him too. But the expression on _his_ face was vastly different then the one that marred his fellow coworkers'.

It _had_ to be _the_ most devious, conniving smirk Cody had ever had the unfortunate luck of seeing on a person's face. Which was saying a lot, since he'd hung out with Randy for the past two years.

Their eyes met, and Cody gulped. Whatever the hell was going on, it could _not_ be good. Glancing away, Cody turned to Ted with a desperately confused expression. "What's going on? Why's everyone looking at me?"

It was quiet as Ted gnawed his bottom lip, brows furrowed—as if he didn't hear his partner's plea—Cody's questioning gaze grew more and more frantic by the second.

Before the DiBiase could answer—if he was ever—Jeff unwound the controller wire from his neck and dropped it to the carpet, before stepping through the wordless throng of wrestlers, in order to crouch directly in front of the defenselessly perturbed Legacy member.

"Hiya, Cody!" Jeff grinned, his forearms resting on his knees in a relaxed position. Cody was taken aback by the sudden amusement being thrust at him, and he scrambled to sit upright, any traces of sleep vanishing from his form.

He was hesitant for a moment, before deciding—_what the hell. It's not like anyone else is talking—_to interrogate the Smackdown Superstar. "Jeff, what'd you _do?_" Because he was near positive it was all the Hardy's fault, whatever _it_ was...

Jeff smiled pleasantly at his words, and tilted his head to the side congenially. "I won."

Cody blinked. His mind slowly processing, Jeff's short statement, and the gears began to turn. "You mean that challenge? ...Randy—Randy _lost?_"

Jeff nodded, his smile growing larger—if that were even possible—as he placed a consoling hand at the crook between Cody's neck and shoulder, gently messaging the tensed muscle there. Cody ignored the older man's charming grin, and comforting hand to shoot a disappointed frown at his mentor and friend.

Apparently, this disapproving glare jolted Randy out of his earlier disbelieving stupor and the first thing the Orton registered was Jeff's hand. Touching—_touching—_Cody. He was to his feet in _milliseconds_, bridging the gap between him and the two cognizant men with one lunge.

And he was at Cody's side in _seconds_, jerking the boy into his hold and _away_ from the Smackdown wrestler's offending hand. An involuntary growl rumbled in his throat, as he narrowed his icy gray eyes at the Hardy, clutching Cody to his chest.

Cody looked bewildered, his eyes wide with shock as he felt Randy's arms tighten around his torso. Even Jeff was slightly surprised, his eyebrows raised, just before the expression melted into a knowing smirk. He clicked his tongue.

"_Ah, ah, ah._ Remember our _terms?_" His finger was wagging back and forth and his tone was chiding, green eyes boring into gray smugly.

Cody frowned at Jeff's 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' voice, and he turned from Jeff to Randy and back again, silently questioning. Jeff duly noted the young man's irritation at not being _in the know_, before speaking once more to the deadly quiet Orton.

"Should I tell him, or should you?"

Randy hissed at the playful-venom lacing through Jeff's question, and he tugged Cody further away from the man, and further into his hold. His eyes darted around the Hardy, wondering just where the hell his supposed _backup_ was.

Ted was still staring morbidly at the carpet lost in thought, Hunter and Shawn were watching their exchange attentively—but they weren't planning on inputting—John had his head in his hands, as if contemplating what exactly _would happen_ to Cody in Jeff's company, and Evan was watching them too, wide, worried eyes glancing between them.

"Well?" Jeff inquired for answer to his earlier question and Randy growled.

"_I'll_ tell him." Jeff smiled.

"Good."

Cody sighed exasperatedly, struggling slightly in Randy's grip. "Just tell me _what_ the hell we lost and get it over with!" The Orton reluctantly allowed him to gradually slide from his hold, but his right arm remained as a barricade between Jeff and him.

Randy messaged his temple with the other hand, as if trying to remain calm despite his rising temper. "Not _what_. It's _who_."

Cody cocked an eyebrow, with a suspicious scowl, as the entire room held their breath, in anticipation—the two Smackdown wrestlers—and in apprehension—the Raw guys.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his glare growing more and more prominent, and the muscles lining his shoulders, tensing.

Randy bit his lower lip. "The terms were... If _I_ won, Smackdown would leave us alone..." He trailed off, trying to find the proper way to word his next statement. Cody took his momentary silence as a _very_ bad sign. A _very_ bad sign that had something to do with him.

"A-and if _Jeff_ won?" His voice shook, and he mentally berated himself, but he knew whatever Randy was about to say would be nothing but bad. Jeff was leaning into Cody's line of sight grinning like a maniac, rainbow tinted hair only adding to the image.

Randy creased his brow, the hand at Cody's side moving to clench the boy's bicep tightly—almost desperately. He gulped.

"If _Jeff_ won... He got you, Cody."

Cody blinked.

_No freaking way._

"...I don't think I heard you right, did you just say he got _me?_" Cody repeated the _ridiculous _words that he was nearly _positive_ he misheard, his tone joking as he scratched his head with a nervous smile.

But Randy's highly reluctant nod confirmed his question, and Cody felt disbelief bubble in the pit of his stomach, as his mouth fell open in absolute dumbfounded incredulity. Who the _hell_ agreed to _those_ stupid terms? And why the hell would Smackdown want _him?_

"And _I_ won_. _So you're _mine_ now, Cody!" Jeff cooed, throwing his arms around Cody's neck and blowing a gust of hot breath behind his left ear, causing said boy's spine to shiver and the little hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Cody's cheeks reddened, and his gaze caught Randy's, still unable to believe that his own mentor—his _friend_, had allowed him to be put up for grabs, and _then—_and, fucking _then_—had the balls to fucking _lose_. Seriously, what the _hell?_

"Don't _touch_ Cody like that," Randy snarled at the sight of Jeff cuddling up to _his_ Legacy cohort and raised his other hand to cup the back of Cody's neck and pull the young man towards him, his forehead against Randy's exposed collar bone.

Jeff—unfortunately—had not released Cody, and was only brought forward with him, so that he was, unintentionally, mere _centimeters_ from Randy's face. Jeff's eyebrows drew together and he narrowed his eyes.

"I could be wrong, but I'm pretty damn sure that that's not up to _you_ anymore. Cody's with me, now," Jeff reiterated, his arms flexing and relaxing subconsciously. Randy ground his teeth together, once he realized what the Hardy said was true. He turned to shoot a hopeless glance at his fellow Raw wrestlers.

John spoke up, fists clenched. "You know the board's not gonna let you guys just _take_ Cody. He's a Raw professional wrestler. They're not gonna just shift him over to your show just because you ask."

Punk snorted at this—having been lounging in an armchair with crossed arms—and John shot him a confused scowl. Jeff chuckled, the laugh vibrating his chest against Cody's back as he did so, and causing the younger man to cringe.

"Whoever said we wanted him as a wrestler?"

It was quiet, as Jeff allowed his words to sink in.

"Then what the heck _did _you want him for?" Evan scowled, crossing his arms indignantly. Jeff and Punk exchanged knowing glances. Cody's ears perked—he, too, curious as to why the Smackdown roster would want _him_ of all people.

Punk scratched his head nonchalantly. "Well, we've always wanted a slave—"

"Don't call my Cody that!" Jeff pouted, a mock frown on his face, as he nuzzled his cheek into Cody's black hair—said man freezing in surprise, and remaining motionless, at loss as to what to do. Randy _barely_ suppressed the urge to rip Jeff's face off.

"Then what _should_ I call him?" Punk grumbled, nose in the air. Jeff smirked.

"_You_ and the rest of Smackdown, can call him Jeffrey."

Punk quirked an eyebrow, and even Randy was confused. "_Why?_"

"Dunno. Jeffrey always sounded like a butler's name to me," Jeff informed, before putting on a seriously overdone British accent, "_Jeffrey_, would you fetch me some _tea?_" Punk sighed. Sometimes, he swore, it was like talking to an eight year old.

"And what are _you_ gonna call him, Jeff?" Punk questioned, noting the flustered scowl on Cody's face as they talked about him as if he wasn't _right there_.

The devious smirk returned to Jeff's lips, as he squeezed Cody closer to him, resting his head complacently on the younger man's hair.

"That's obvious. Cody's my _Sexy Skittle._"

Cody blanched, his face growing more and more crimson by the second. Jeff realized this and his smirk widened. Randy noticed too, and he suddenly felt ten times more pissed than he had earlier. "Ya wanna know _why_ he's my Sexy Skittle?"

"Sure, if it makes you happy," Punk allowed, standing up from his seat, and dusting his shirt off.

"Because _Cody_ is to _sexy_, as _skittle_ is to _Jeff._" With that, Jeff shifted to stand to his feet, tugging Cody up with him and Randy followed suit instantly. "Anyway, sorry to be a downer, but we gotta get back to our hotel room! And since Cody is officially Smackdown's _Jeffrey_, he stays with us!"

Cody's eyes widened at Jeff's words, and he shot a wide-eyed stare at Randy—_please don't let them take me, please don't let them take me—_with hopes that the Orton would somehow magically reverse time, to before the terms were ever set, so that they could bet something much less important like Hornswoggle, or a couple ladders.

"We'll come pick up his things from your room tomorrow morning," Punk informed, as Jeff moved to wind his arms around Cody's waist, to be sure he had a firm grip on the reluctant young man.

"Wait! You guys can't be serious!" Cody protested, as Jeff slowly began to drag his way towards the exit, Punk following at a leisurely pace. Jeff pouted at Cody's words.

"A bet's a bet. Besides," The Hardy spun Cody around so that they were face to face. "_Don't you like me, Cody?_" He whispered, a ghost of a heated breath dancing across Cody's parted lips so dangerously close to Jeff's own smirking ones.

Said man instantly clamped his mouth shut, and turned away—face stained red. Jeff chuckled. "Thought so, c'mon Punky let's go." And he motioned for his companion to follow him as he tugged the flushed faced Cody out the door, Punk not far behind.

Randy watched the exchange with balled fists, practically shaking with the amount of control he'd had to force through his veins to keep himself from launching onto the unsuspecting Hardy and stealing back what rightfully belonged to him.

Cody was _his_.

Hell, Cody was _his_ before he was _anyone_ else's. Randy set his jaw, muscles tensed. He'd never learned—or cared to learn—how to share his toys as a kid.

And he wasn't about to start learning now.

He _had_ to get Cody back.

And from the looks on his fellow Raw members' faces.

They did too.

* * *

Do I sense the plot unfolding?

If things go as planned, Cody'll probably end up getting molested next chapter.

How fun! Well, not for _him._ But I'm sure he'll get over it. Eventually.

Review, please!


	2. So Much Cuter

disclaimer: I don't own.

warning: SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, and, ohmygosh, SLASH!

This one's a bit long, but I couldn't help it. I'm very weak when it comes to resisting my muses. It's sad isn't it?

note: Sorry if there's any mistakes. A fourteen-year-old-beta-less-busy-body can only do _so_ much.

"Um, Jeff? You don't _really_ mean I'm with Smackdown as a slave now, do you?"

Cody found himself tentatively murmuring as he allowed himself to be led away by the hand towards the Hardy's room, Punk trailing behind with a BlackBerry in hand. Jeff shot him a smirk over his shoulder, his tattooed hand squeezing around Cody's pleasantly.

"Of course I mean it, Cody-kins. I _did_ win you, didn't I?" He asked rhetorically, slowing to a stop before a white painted door, and sliding a key-card from his pocket with his unoccupied hand. Cody bit his lower lip.

"But... But I didn't think we were allowed to bet _people,_" He protested, eyebrows pulling together in slight fear. Cody'd never spent much time with the younger Hardy brother, and the times he had were small encounters, when Cody just happened to be passing by at the same moment Jeff needed something—_"Cute-ass, toss me my water bottle?"_—never any _actual_ conversation.

So why the hell'd Jeff want _him_ for?

"Sorry to interrupt your _stimulating_ conversation, but I need to get back to my room. See you two, in the morning," Punk said with a slight wave and a nod, as he stuffed his phone into his back-pocket and made to jog down the hall.

"'Night!" Jeff called after his retreating form, inwardly a bit disappointed with the fact that Punk had ditched out on him, just when the fun was about to start. _Oh, well_.

The door was opened and Jeff tugged Cody off the threshold, inside. "And no one ever _said_ we couldn't bet people, you know." He said, in addition to their earlier conversation.

Cody didn't comment, as he glanced around the hotel room cautiously, noting the exits and keeping an escape route in mind. The room was warm, and Cody could see the heater blowing underneath the curtain of the windows, causing them to billow out. It had the very faint scent of burnt rubber, due to said heater and Cody crinkled his nose.

Jeff noticed this and he grinned, a teeth-showing grin. "Has anyone ever told you you're adorable when you scrunch up your nose like that?"

Cody instantly straightened out his expression, cheeks red with embarrassment and mustered up the fiercest glare he could at the moment. "No, and I'm _not_ adorable. Little kids and puppies are adorable. I'm a _professional wrestler_." Cody was enthralled to feel his usual luster returning, as his confidence climbed out of the hole it'd been hiding in, and he wasn't so freaked out and confused.

At least not on the outside.

Jeff chuckled, the hand that still encircled Cody's, working as a restraint, as he pulled the younger boy in his direction, Cody stumbling over his own feet in surprise. "Oh," Jeff sighed, opposite hand moving to lightly grasp Cody's chin between his thumb and forefinger, so that they were eye-level. "But you _are_ adorable, _my new little toy..._" He breathed the last four words against Cody's ear, hot breath steaming along his sensitive ear canal.

Instantly Cody retracted, jumping back in shock, a hand flying up to his offended ear as he gaped at Jeff with crimson tinted cheeks. He gulped again, and couldn't help but notice the way Jeff's emerald eyes watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he did so, a sort of strange longing lurking behind their usual lustrous glow.

"Don't _do_ that!" Cody uttered, messaging his violated ear, as if that would wipe away the Jeff-germs.

Jeff, despite his slightly absent thoughts, feigned innocence. "Do what?"

Cody narrowed his eyes, but there was no real accusation behind them, he was too disgusted at the moment for that. He'd never been... _molested_ the way Jeff had been doing in the past ten minutes.

"_You_ know what! Breathing on me and shit!" Cody hissed. At his words, Jeff's 'I-didn't-do-it' stare, suddenly morphed into a reprehensible smirk, and he licked his lips slowly, green eyes glowing. Cody bit his cheek at the sight of the provocative leer raking over his form.

He wasn't sure why but he was breathing through his mouth now—short, shallow breaths, blowing past his teeth. And his skin was suddenly too hot to bear, he felt like someone had taken an internal lighter and ignited every pore in his body.

It must be that _damn_ heater.

"_Breathing_ on you?"

Instantly, Jeff was too close, their bodies only inches apart, as he'd closed the distance. He leaned forward, so that his parted lips hung over Cody's exposed neck like a haunting raincloud, threatening to be a lighting storm. Or at least that's what Cody felt like was happening in his mind—because he couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"_I'm sorry. I was under the impression that you liked it," _Jeff whispered, deliberately exhaling out a gust of blazing hot breath, accompanied with a deliciously needy sigh.

Cody's breath was shaky, as he closed his eyes, head raised in a feeble attempt to get away from Jeff—or was he tilting to the right to expose even more sensitive skin to the willing Enigma? _No._ No, he was just trying to get some fresh air, because it was _way_ too freaking hot.

Jeff smirked at this, and resisted—barely—the enticing notion of obliging his newly acquired Cody's subconscious wishes, for him to place his experienced lips to the untouched skin of the seductive curve of his neck. But no. Jeff had to exercise self-control with his newly found sex-toy, the Rhodes boy had always been an object of pure, unadulterated _lust_ since Jeff had first laid eyes on his slight, toned little self and he wasn't about to let it all go to waste.

Since they'd met, he'd wanted that exquisite little boy to himself. But despite all that pent up hunger, Jeff had to ease into it. He wasn't going to just take the boy and be done with it. Things like this took time. And besides, Cody was so damn _sexy-cute_, seducing him over and over again would be the highlight of _anyone's_ day.

Lucky Jeff, got to do it every second of every minute of every hour. Now that Cody was _his_.

With this captivating thought, Jeff retracted from the immobile Cody—putty in his eager hands.

At the sudden loss of heat, Cody's eyes shot open, and he suddenly gained control over his numb limbs, jerking completely out of Jeff's hold.

He hugged himself self-consciously, and shot the older man an accusing glare through narrowed blue eyes. "Why do you keep _touching_ me?" He growled, feeling rather defenseless, and irritated with himself for nearly giving into Jeff's ministrations.

Jeff jut out his bottom lip, in another one of those 'What-_ever_-do-you-mean?' looks, and took a step forward. "Aw, never mind that now, Cody-kins. It's time to get some well-deserved shut-eye, don't you think? After all, I heard Randy and the rest of you spent _all day_ trying to hone his gaming skills. I'm sure you're _exhausted_."

Cody swallowed thickly, glancing over at the _single_-bed in the middle of the room. He opened his mouth to state this painfully obvious fact, but Jeff put his finger to his lips to stop him, with that same aggravating smirk.

"I'll sleep on the couch, Skittle," He commented lightly, indicating with a flick of his head to the plush love seat in the corner. Cody raised his hand to tug Jeff's finger away, with a scowl.

"Fine. Whatever." He had to admit he _was_ tired—hence the reason why he'd passed out earlier in Hunter and Shawn's room, while they were waiting on Jeff and Punk to arrive. But he didn't trust Jeff. Not after the stunt he just pulled, what with the heavy breathing, and the... the _touching_.

Jeff seemed pleased with Cody's quick agreement, and the Hardy smiled, before glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was nearly midnight. Just enough time for a quickie.

Quick shower, that is.

"I'm gonna take a shower then, Cody-kins. Try not to get _too_ scared without me." Jeff grinned, when Cody "humphed" facing the opposite direction, before tugging off his shoes, and stepping into the bathroom.

Once Jeff had successfully extricated himself from Cody's general proximity, the young Rhodes' boy, fished his cellphone from his back pocket, grateful to whoever ruled the skies that he'd remembered to bring it with him.

Casting a covert glance over his shoulder at the closed door of the bathroom, where the sound of falling water began, Cody quickly stabbed at Teddy's icon in the contacts, causing the touchscreen to quiver with the force. And with the dexterity rivaling that of a craftsman, Cody speedily tapped out a text.

_U gotta get randy to win me back. Dammit i think jeff's gonna rape me!1!1!_

Hopefully, the excess amount of exclamation points would alert Ted to Cody's complete seriousness.Hopefully.

Hitting send, Cody slid the phone back into his pocket, and plopped onto the soft mattress with a long, dragging sigh.

He wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep, knowing touchy-feely Jeff wasn't far away, but he could really use a good night's sleep after the heart-racing shit the Enigma had so kindly put him through. Really. Cody didn't get why the heck he was so worked up about Jeff was just _breathing_ on him. Hell, _he_ breathed on Teddy all the time, and Ted never said anything.

But that was just it. Cody was _only_ breathing on Ted. When Jeff breathed, it was like exhaling a wave of _heat_ across your skin that sent your spine into a _seizure_ of shivers, and caused your throat to _constrict_, so you swallow to try and fix it but it only makes it _worse_.

...Well, when it's put like that, there was no way in _hell_ Jeff was just _breathing_ on him. _Just breathing_ didn't make him feel like _that_.

Ever.

"_R-Randy..."_

_He couldn't help but purr throatily at the sound of his name falling from those seductive lips, as he pinned the naked boy to the sheets, elbows on either side of him, and their faces dangerously close._

_Those icy blue eyes looking up at him through black lashes, cloudy with the film of lust. Lust for him. Cody wanted him. Randy wanted to grin like a drug-addict at the thought, as he drunk in the sight of his precious boy underneath him._

_His cheeks were flushed a delectable red, so enticing Randy could lick the color right from the skin. His lips were practically begging him to touch them, slightly parted as shallow breaths came in and out, past an unintentionally tempting pout._

_The sight caused Randy's stomach to turn as that familiar coil of fire erupted in his abdomen. This time much fiercer than before. So fierce, he nearly lost all control of his body, as he eyed Cody's erotic form—pressed so close to his, there was hardly a breath between them—with the ravaging gaze of a predator, basking in the sight of his defenseless pray._

_His lusty gray eyes soon traveled over their desired target, and Randy felt a smirk creep onto his face at the thought. With absolutely no pretense, Randy dove down to encompass Cody's pouting lips with his own, his tongue instantly flicking out to run along the boy's lower lip. And then his upper lip, before forcing his way into his mouth._

_He tasted everywhere. Every crevice, every nook of Cody's hot mouth, committing every minute detail to memory subconsciously, as he felt something akin to euphoria overtake his mind in a hazy fog, at Cody's taste. _

_It was indescribable. And addictive._

_Randy felt an animalistic growl vibrate his throat, the moment he felt Cody attempt to pull away for a gasping breath, and he immediately raised his hand to cup the back of Cody's neck to hold him there. Teeth clashing, Randy aggressively ravaged the younger boy's mouth, unable to get enough of his narcotic-like taste._

_Then, rather abruptly, there was a sound. A sound that set Randy's insides aflame, and his entire body into an overheated frenzy. A moan. Cody's moan._

_Cody did it again, the sound vibrating their lips together, and Randy couldn't help but pull back, releasing the boy's lips from his predatorial attack. Immediately, the both of them were gulping down air, but neither of them were bothered by the burn in their lungs, as Randy eyed Cody's exposed form hungrily, noting his bruised lips with ill-disguised pleasure and subconsciously replaying that deliciously sexy moan, over and over again in his mind._

_Cody caught his gaze, and—with deliberate sensuality—slowly slid his tongue out in order to drag it along his bruising lips, licking his chops like a guilty wolf with the chicken feather in its mouth._

_Randy was entranced. Gray eyes following the gradual, sexual movement with an attentive fervor. Before Cody could even retract his tongue back into his mouth, Randy swooped in for another kiss. Lips catching Cody's just in time for his own tongue to connect with his, as he marveled in that heroin-fix flavor._

_Cody's lusty moans came even sooner this time, and he subconsciously arched his back to grind his bare body against Randy's, causing the older man to growl in surprise and appreciation. With a smirk—their lips still together—Randy forcefully pressed back, eliciting a whimper from the boy beneath him as he—_

"RANDY!"

Randy's eyes shot open, his heart beating faster than a bullet train, his skin feeling as if it'd just been roasted over a campfire and sweat dowsing every inch of his body.

Leaning over him, with a concerned frown, was Ted.

"Randy are you okay, man? You've been groaning and rolling around for a while now," The DiBiase questioned, hands to his waist. Randy opened his mouth to answer, when he suddenly noticed the slow, _thump-thump_, pulsating from somewhere inside his shorts. A nervous glance down, and he couldn't believe Ted hadn't noticed the tent he was currently pitching in his boxers.

_Shit._

"I'm... I'm fine. Just—just worried about Cody, that's all." At the name of the young man he'd just been having a crazy, almost-wet-dream about, a shiver wracked his body, from the tips of his toes, and the back of his neck, to the hot-spot below his waistband. He hurriedly pulled himself into a sitting position, dragging the comforter closer to him to form a pile of blankets at his waist in order to hide his obvious arousal from his Legacy partner.

At the mention of Cody, Ted's face visibly darkened, and the hands at his waist, clenched tightly. Upon closer inspection, Randy realized the darkened circles underneath the DiBiase's eyes, and the serious case of bed-head that mussed his hair. He glanced over at the clock. A quarter to twelve. Ted should have been nodding off by now, he should know just as well as anyone, they had to get up early to catch a flight.

"Ted? H-how long've you been awake?" Randy questioned, voice still slightly shaken from the, er, _stimulating_ dream he'd had.

"I haven't gone to sleep yet." Ted paused, as if contemplating whether he should confide in his mentor or not. He rubbed his eyes exhaustedly, looking years older than he was. "Cody sent me a text awhile ago—"

Randy was to his feet in seconds, glare prominent, and muscles tense. "What'd it say?" He was already guessing the worst, when Ted continued.

"He said we _had_ to get him back and..."

Randy swore his nails were leaving bloody-red crescents in his palms, he was clenching them so tightly.

"And to hurry, because he thinks Jeff might try to rape him... And I know Cody tends to be a bit melodramatic, but I just couldn't stop playing all these different scenarios over and over again in my head. I mean, Jeff had to have done _something_ to make Cody think that Jeff wanted him in _that_ way. The mental images were enough to make my stomach hurt. And—and, I'm just worried about him is all."

Ted exhaled softly, as if he felt better after mini-ranting to his coworker.

Randy growled, his low voice making it all the more menacing, as he crossed his arms over his chest tersely, head cocked to the side in intense thought. He had to do something. He had to _think_ of something.

He had to find a way to get Jeff to be willing to put Cody's freedom on the line once again. He had to appeal to Jeff's better nature... But how? The gears in his mind began to turn as he stood as still as a statue, every nerve in his body tight with a stoic calm.

Jeff liked bets. He liked challenges, and skittles—and Cody apparently. The last thought, made Randy's jaw clench. Jeff liked doing things on his terms. He liked having things go his way. He liked it when the odds were stacked against him. But he also preferred things to be in his favor. He liked games, and he liked winning. He liked when the prize was interesting, and he liked—

Randy paused. The gears working in rapid-fire as he processed this information. He scanned over it once more, until he found just the words he was looking for.

His gray eyes widened, as he realized what this discovery meant. He raised his gaze from the carpet, he'd been staring at for the past five minutes, to Ted.

"I know how we can get our Cody back."

Jeff bit his lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood, his hands clenching tightly to the white, hotel-issue, towel wound around his naked waist. Only one thought playing through his mind, over and over again like a broken record.

_Who the hell's bright idea was it, to make one guy so damn seductive without even being awake?_

Cody was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling slowly, as he slumbered on Jeff's bed. He was splayed out on his back, the comforter, Jeff was sure he'd—at one point—been bundled in, had been tugged down to just above his knees.

His black t-shirt had inched up with his sleepy movements, to expose his defined abs, practically _begging_ the Enigma to tickle them with tantalizing touches. In contrast, his jeans and boxers had managed to tug themselves down so far, the luscious 'V' of Cody's hips was on full display for Jeff's wandering eyes.

The Hardy swallowed thickly, subconsciously licking his lips like a lion who'd just found an easy prey. But, honestly, how the hell did Cody expect him _not_ to want him? What with the way he practically offered himself up on a silver platter to anyone who was asking. Not consciously, of course, but Jeff was positive Cody must have been some sort of man-whore in a past life, because he sure knew how to seduce a man.

And it was these tortuously, deceitful thoughts, that were currently causing Jeff to hold himself back, and suppress his urge to... Well to do things to Cody, that should be illegal in Washington.

"Mm..._ No..._"

The groan caused Jeff to flinch in surprise, as Cody tossed his head to the side, widespread arms, flexing and unflexing, continuously. Jeff quirked a curious brow, and wondered if, perhaps, Cody was having a nightmare of some sort. His question was answered almost immediately, when Cody's previously peaceful face abruptly shifted to one of anxiety. His eyes squinting shut tightly, and his teeth grinding together, as if he were in serious danger, and he needed to desperately escape.

Jeff smirked at this, as Cody tossed onto his side, causing his shirt to ride up even further.

Yes.

A _perfect_ excuse to crawl in bed with the young Rhodes.

And, grinning like a maniac, Jeff—very carefully—slid onto the bed, wary of Cody's slightly shifting legs.

He moved, until he was hovering over Cody, on all fours, the young wrestler having thrown himself to the right and onto his back once again, and raised a cautious hand to ever so _gently_ caress his damp, pale face, trying his hardest to ignore the feverish heat that radiated off of Cody's bare skin, warming Jeff's naked torso.

At the soft touch, Cody hesitated, his tightly set jaw slowly unclenching, as if he were subconsciously pondering as to what this feeling against his cheek could possibly be. Then, abruptly, he moaned something incomprehensible, before a very small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned his head to the side, tilting into the Hardy's tender touch.

Jeff's pleased smirk couldn't have possibly been any bigger.

He bowed his head down to rest his cool forehead against Cody's flushed neck, causing the younger man to whimper quietly, before gradually relaxing into Jeff's damp nuzzles. Jeff grinned with an accomplished air, opening his mouth to whisper affectionately against his bare, sensitive collar bone.

"_Everything's fine, love. You're going to be okay. Just go back to sleep, I'll be here with you..."_

Cody smiled softly to himself at the comforting words being spoken to him in a delicate, chocolaty, velvet voice. Jeff noticed—with satisfaction—Cody's tense posture slowly ease into one that someone _should_ have when they're sleeping, and the younger boy subconsciously snuggled his face into Jeff's freshly washed hair—still moist from his earlier shower.

Jeff sighed with an indulgent grin, inhaling the scent of Cody's naked skin, finding himself intoxicated with it, before gradually rolling to the side and off of Cody's sleeping form. The instant his cool skin could no longer be felt, Cody's peaceful expression, deepened into a frown of confusion and he immediately extended his arms, in search of Jeff's gentle hold.

The Hardy's grin grew larger, once Cody's lithe fingers found his bare chest, pausing at his heartbeat, before gradually inching up to his shoulders, and then to his neck. After registering that this soft, slightly damp individual, was the comforting one from before, Cody's smile returned, and he tugged himself closer, burying his face in the crook between Jeff's neck and shoulder, with a contented sigh.

Okay, _maybe_ Jeff was totally enjoying Cody's suddenly snuggly behavior, seeing as how the young Rhodes didn't particularly like him when he was conscious, but hey, he was entitled to his opinion. Jeff allowed Cody to nuzzle against him, relaxing in the plush comfort of the hotel bed, and slowly closing his eyes.

Basking in Cody's imminent warmth, he gradually slipped into unconsciousness, dreams overtaking his vulnerable mind, and a drowsy, snug haze overtaking his nerves.

Unfortunately, in all this comfy-cozy hubbub, Jeff might've _accidentally_ forgotten that he was still dressed in nothing but a fluffy white towel.

But, whatever. It should turn out _just_ fine.

Randy sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes as John cursed once more on the opposite line.

They—meaning he and Ted—were in the process of waking up their Raw coworkers, it being currently one-thirty in the morning, and demanding they get their lazy asses on Instant Messenger, so that Randy could relay his newly formulated plan to get Cody back.

"I told you, I freaking hate this thing!" John growled, referring to the hunk of technology humanity called a laptop. Randy tapped his knee impatiently, from his cross-legged position on his hotel bedspread, his own laptop waiting expectantly before him.

"Calm down, John. Remember. The _power button_ is in the top right hand corner. The other one's for volume," Randy reminded, using his 'super-slow-just-for-stupid-people' voice. He heard John grunt in irritation through his cell phone, a few seconds of silence, and then an, 'Aha!'

"You got it?"

"Yup!" John sounded quite proud of himself. Randy suppressed the urge to roll his eyes again.

"Okay, now you _do_ know how to get on IM right?" It was quiet. "_John?_"

"...It's the one with the little colorful butterfly, right?"

Randy growled. "You know what? Forget it, I'll just talk to you on the phone, you technologically-retarded—"

"Hey!"

"Idiot... Ted, what'd the others say?" Randy turned to face one third of the Legacy threesome, where he sat at the small desk, laptop flipped open on top of the wooden surface. At the sight of him, Randy couldn't help but feel slightly worried for the young DiBiase. To be honest, he looked liked someone had taken a huge stick and beaten his puppy with it, he was completely motionless.

"They're all on, already," He stated absently, finger trailing blankly over the touch pad, as he stared vacantly at the beige, plastered, wall opposite him. Randy eyed him carefully, and, after he was positive Ted wasn't going to throw himself out the fifth story window beside him, nodded slowly.

"Alright. Then, John's just going to be by phone, because he hasn't quite adjusted to the new millennium," Randy muttered, turning his attention to his laptop screen and beginning his explanation of his very intricately woven plan. Because he was Randy Orton, master of evil. And Cody was his recently kidnapped disciple, who he was going to save with everything in his power.

Cody's knight in shining armor.

With that odd thought, Randy quickly set fingers to keys, and began to type out his plan in the most simple form and fashion possible, so that Hunter, Shawn and Evan could all comprehend. He'd vocally explain it to John as well.

_RKO says:_ I've come up with a plan to get Cody back. We all have to make a bet with Jeff, and seduce Cody.

Because beating around the bush was for sissies.

_Hunter says:_ wtf?

Randy sighed, tilting his head to hold his cell phone between his ear and shoulder, as he multi-tasked; talking to John whilst typing out his explanation of his convoluted plan. "Okay, John. The plan is this: We bet Jeff that we can seduce Cody into our bed before he can. Jeff, being a challenge-lover, won't refuse. And when Jeff's not looking, we explain it to Cody, and he can pretend to be seduced by me. Problem solved. And I can get Cody back."

_RKO says:_ Jeff loves challenges, so he'll definitely accept. We bet we can seduce Cody first. We tell Cody later. Cody pretends to be seduced by me. We get Cody back.

_Sexy-Boy says: _Wait, you want _hunter_ to help seduce Cody?

_Hunter says:_ what r u trying to _say_, shawn?

_Evan says: _...I don't think I can

Randy growled, as he read over the messages.

"So wait," John's voice sounded from the other end. "You want _Hunter_ to seduce _Cody?_"

Randy smacked his forehead with his free hand. "_Yes._ John."

Why the hell did everyone find that so hard to believe? They were making this harder than necessary. It wasn't like he actually _wanted_ to let anyoneseduce Cody, or even come within breathing distance of the younger boy, but if that's what it took to get his boy back, he could bend a bit.

Besides, Ted was looking a bit pale. Suffering from Cody withdrawal, Randy presumed. Suffering from a withdrawal that Randy knew he'd be suffering from soon if he didn't get some serious Cody dosage. But at the rate things were going, it could be days before he had Cody back in his arms again. Or well, next to him at least.

_RKO says:_ Hunter can do it. He's not _that_ incapable. And Evan, you know you and Cody have always been kinda close friends, it shouldn't be that harf

_RKO says:_ hard

_Sexy-Boy says:_ if we do this... Will Cody ever be the same? I mean, the _emotional_ scars

_Hunter says: _he'll be fine... so i heard jeff's planning on raping cody, true or false?

_Evan says: _WHAT?

_RKO says:_ That little fucker isn't laying a hand on my Cody.

Randy ground his teeth together so loudly, he was almost surprised that John couldn't hear it through the phone. The simple _prospect_ of Jeff coming anywhere _near_ Cody, was enough to make him want to disembowel someone, but he refrained from committing murder, and instead focused on the task at hand.

_Hunter says:_ i take that as a yes. hardy _has_ been touching the rhodes in naughty way

_Sexy-boy says:_ Shut up Hunt. can't you tell he's hurting inside?

_Hunter says:_ ...

_Hunter says: _this is _not_ a soap opera. we're MEN.

_Evan says: _ANYWAY. so, we're supposed to seduce Cody?

_RKO says:_ Yes. We have to seduce him a bit in the beginning, _before_ we tell him what's going on. So that Jeff knows we're not just doing this to get Cody back.

_Evan says:_ But we _are_...

_Sexy-Boy says: _stop being annoying evan

_Hunter says:_ k, so how _far_ is 'seducing'?

Randy raised a brow at this—his earlier flair of rage ebbing away—as he pondered this statement carefully. Of course, he didn't want anyone going any farther than provocative words. But that, obviously, wasn't _seducing_. More along the lines of simple 'hitting on'.

But on the other hand the thought of Hunter—or Shawn, or Evan—_touching _Cody made his blood boil. Cody was still _his_.

"Randy? When you say _'seducing'_ what exactly does that entail?" John's voice was timid, as he knew fine well, how protective of Cody Randy tended to be. Whether he was aware of it or not.

"I'm not sure... I guess—Whatever is fine. Just don't go too far John. Remember this is just a bet," Randy informed, finding the words heavy on his tongue, reluctant to give permission to someone else, allowing him to touch what was rightfully his. It felt... _wrong_. And shitty.

With those heavy thoughts in mind, Randy supposed he should answer Hunter's earlier question, having been very similar to John's.

_RKO says:_ Whatever it takes to be convincing.

_RKO says: _On second thought. Keep it rated 'T'

_Hunter says: _well, _duh._ we aren't gonna rape the poor kid

_Hunter says:_ ...at least, _i'm_ not

_Sexy-Boy says:_ What's _that_ supposed to mean?

_Evan says:_ ..._I_ wouldn't rape Cody either!

Randy massaged his temple with the hard edge of his knuckles, grinding them against the rapidly forming migraine. _This_ was precisely the reason why Randy spent his time with Ted and Cody. Or, well one of the reasons.

_RKO says:_ Concentrate, guys.

_Hunter says:_ sorry. so when does this "plan" come into action exactly?

_RKO says: _Tomorrow. We need Cody back as soon as possible.

_Sexy-Boy says: _Okie-dokie. Tomorrow then.

_Hunter says: _sure, whatever

_Evan says: _Idk... but i'll try

Randy sat back against the pillows on his bed, with a small smile. At least he knew he had back-up. He wasn't alone in his want to have Cody back.

...Speaking of back up...

"John, you still there?"

Randy quirked an eyebrow when only silence met his inquiry. "John?" He was about to hit redial, when suddenly another message popped up on the instant messenger screen.

_John Cena says:_ HAH! I FINALLY DID IT! I'M ON IM!

Randy sighed.

_Hunter says: _what the hell's _he_ on?

Ted groaned to himself, thankful the door that connected his and Randy's room was shut, as he tossed onto his side, clutching—what used to be—Cody's pillow over his face to muffle his grumbles.

He _missed_ Cody. The kid was like, the body to his oil.

Okay. Weird analogy. But it was true.

Alone, Ted felt like an empty shell, like he was back in that uncomfortable 'no-man's-land' between sweet, sugary dreams, and warm, comfortable consciousness, where you always felt like total shit, and the monsters from your nightmares tried to attack you, while you simultaneously tried to wake yourself up.

Ted muttered a short string of curses into the soft plush, at least grateful for it's comforting scent. Though, of course, he'd much rather have the real thing in his arms, cuddling to his side and mumbling adorable little nothings in his sleepy haze.

"_Dammit_," Ted growled, his vulnerable mind already beginning to conjure the images of Cody, he'd been fighting to keep at bay. They'd only make him even more miserable then he was. But, damn, the freaking Cody-scented pillow was making it hard to concentrate on the plan.

"Agh. Stop it, Teddy, you dumbass," He hissed to himself, he couldn't believe how pathetic he was being, moaning and groaning _just_ because Cody wasn't beside him. Hell, the guy was just down the hall!

—_Getting molested by Jeff._

Ted shot upright, throwing the pillow across the room with a snarl, taking a small pleasure in the '_thump'_ it made as the pillow slid to the carpet in a heap. _Fucking_ Jeff, _wanting _Cody, _taking _Cody... _touching_ Cody.

_Ted's_ Cody.

_His _Cody.

Ted's hands balled into fists, knuckles white with the force, teeth grinding together, and blue eyes darting around wildly. Suddenly they stopped. Stopped on his phone, sitting on the bedside table, the lamp catching on its shiny surface and causing it to glow. Ted cocked his head to the side, muscles gradually relaxing, as he reached for the phone and brought it back to life, the screen slightly illuminating his face.

Anger slowly ebbing, Ted found Cody's grinning, adorable picture in his contacts and clicked it, a whole page of information appearing before his eyes. Tapping the text key, a blank spread popped up and he tentatively poked out a message.

If he could just talk to Cody a bit, he'd feel just a little better. Especially, if he could make sure Jeff wasn't anywhere _near_ the top button of Cody's jeans.

"_Brrrr._"

Jeff cracked a drowsy green eye open, glancing around at the peculiar sound that prodded at his lethargic mind, forcing him to leave his comfortable dream world. When nothing popped into sight with a large sign screaming 'It's me! I'm making the annoying noise!', Jeff plopped his head back on top of Cody's, hoping, idly, that the sound would silence itself, as he tried to drift back into sleep-land.

"_Brrrr._"

"Ugh," Jeff grumped, raising his head irritatedly and glaring at nothing in particular, as he perked his ears for the sound again, determined to find whatever it was, and annihilate it, for ruining his limited Cody-time.

"_Brrrr._"

Following the vibrating sound, he found his eyes resting on... Well, on Cody's butt. Jeff tilted his head, suddenly wide awake, as he contemplated whether he _should_ do the thing he was thinking.

Jeff shrugged, with a grin.

What was he thinking, of _course_ he should!

Not at all embarrassed, Jeff slid his hand down, from Cody's shoulder—where it'd been resting previously, holding him close—along the toned muscle of the unconscious Rhodes' back, inwardly reveling in the smooth, defined lines.

At his touch, Cody abruptly flinched, nuzzling his face deeper into the crevice between Jeff's bare shoulder and neck, the Hardy above him fully aware of the pleased smile that tugged at the corner of the young boy's lips, as Jeff's fingers trailed down his exposed back.

Slowly his fingers met with the top of Cody's boxers, and the older man couldn't resist carefully slipping his thumb underneath the waistband and sliding it along, the nail grazing Cody's sensitive skin ever so slightly, and causing the young man to shiver, subconsciously letting out a mewl of appreciation and tugging Jeff closer, arms still wound around the Hardy's neck.

The unexpected, lusty, sound made Jeff freeze in his tracks, suddenly more aware of Cody's disarmingly seductive nature than he had been all day. Chancing a glance down, Jeff found his eyes tracing every inch of Cody's half naked body—pressed up against his—practically begging him to take the boy then and there. And, _oh_ how he wished he could.

His mind was practically egging him on. It would be _so _easy. Just flip Cody onto his back, and taste every bit of those tantalizingly erotic muscles, and run his fingers along those painfully luscious hips—_No_.

Jeff stopped his craving thoughts in their tracks, biting his bottom lip—as he was wont to do—to control himself, and will away the sudden hard-on he felt threaten to make itself visible. Damn, he'd never gotten so worked up over one little guy before. And for God's sake, he wasn't even _awake!_

Jeff, feeling slightly disappointed with himself, buried his face into Cody's soft hair, as he moved his hand to slip it into the young boy's back pocket, immediately stopping short of the cell phone that resided there. With a barely noticeable, accomplished sigh, Jeff tugged the phone out and held it up, into his line of vision, through the short bristles of Cody's hair.

It's screen was still dimly glowing from when it rung earlier, the '1 New Message' box flashing, and, realizing that the phone was a touchscreen, Jeff tapped the 'open' tab, and the phone instantly flashed into 'ON' mode, the screen becoming blindingly bright. Jeff immediately clamped his eyes shut, to avoid the burning of his corneas, hissing as he gradually reopened them, allowing them to grow accustomed to the new light setting.

As soon as his vision had returned from its blurry haze, Jeff read the short text message sitting blankly, awaiting a reply from someone that was surely not himself.

_U awake, Coddles?_

Curiously, Jeff glanced up to see the name of the supplier of the message, and saw: _From: Teddy_.

With a smirk, Jeff mulled over the possible things he could do with the disguise of Cody in his hands. Because, really, Ted didn't have a right to still be texting his Cody. And just what the hell was he doing up so late, anyway? And wanting to talk to his Cody, no less.

He _could_ say, '_I never want to talk to you again, leave me alone.' _or just plain, '_Fuck off._' Jeff nodded to himself, satisfied with the many ideas that popped into his devious little mind.

But just as he was about to start typing, a whole different thought occurred to him. And with one of those conniving smirks, he searched Cody's phone for the button that activated the camera.

The moment he found it, he quickly held it above he and Cody's snuggled tight forms, thanking whoever worked 'upstairs' that the young Rhodes' cell had a flash, as it glowed instantly and dissipated, leaving little spots of light dancing along Jeff's vision. He pulled the phone back to his face, examining the picture to be sure that both men could be clearly seen, and that it was plainly obvious what they were doing.

And finally, after a few more tries, Jeff sent the image off to an unsuspecting Ted, feeling rather triumphant with himself, while the phone returned to its home screen. But just as Jeff was about to turn the thing off, he caught sight of the picture that wallpapered Cody's background.

It was of Cody and Randy. They were both still decked out in their customary ring trunks—or, at least, Jeff thought so, since the image stopped just above their waists, and there was no clothing whatsoever to be had.

Cody was on the left, puckering his lips in a pout. He would've looked sad, if his blue eyes weren't sparkling with the hint of a smile. Cody was the one holding his phone, as Jeff could see his arm reaching up.

Randy was on the right, his tattooed arm wound tightly around Cody's neck, he was smirking slightly, and sweaty, the light glistening off his damp body and his shirtless torso on obvious display for all who viewed the picture to admire.

Even Jeff had to admit, Randy had quite a body. And he couldn't help but wonder if that was the reason why Cody had this picture as his background to begin with. Turning on your phone, and getting to drool over the sex-god almighty, whenever you pleased? Jeff could see Cody doing something like that, and the prospect made him grumble.

He inwardly wondered what Cody would do if his wallpaper suddenly changed to Jeff's devilishly handsome face—at least he'd like to think so—and yet another of those scheming concoctions, Jeff called ideas, popped up.

Oh, _this_ would be good.

Gasp!

Whatever will Jeff do?

Hehe. Do you _really_ want to know?

Then review, and find out next chapter!


End file.
